29 - Take down three of Eagle Sauce’s fighter jets! A fisherman could never join the air force!

Naturally, the blur that just zipped past was Azuma Shoyo, cranking his speed to Mach 20.

In an instant, he blew by the three U.S. fighter jets cruising at Mach 2.4.

They didn't even catch what flew past—just ate his dust.

After streaking ahead, Azuma grinned and looped back.

Then he started messing with them—darting around the jets in all sorts of flashy patterns, driving the three pilots nuts.

Right then—

"Permission granted to use air-to-air missiles! Take that target down!"

At a U.S. East Coast military base, a colonel barked into his mic.

Their pilots getting toyed with like this? A slap in the face to the great U.S. of A!

No soldier worth their stripes could stomach that.

They had to shoot this UFO down today!

Meanwhile, the three pilots, now cleared to fire, lit up with glee.

"Fuck yeah! Come at us again, you bastard!"

They switched to manual targeting—radar couldn't lock onto him, so no auto-aim.

Manual it was. They were ace U.S. pilots, not some scrubs.

What's a little hand-aiming?

Piece of cake!

BOOM!

Another sonic blast roared from behind.

That damn figure was back!

"Perfect! Let's see you dodge this!"

The pilots lined him up and slammed the launch buttons.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Six air-to-air missiles streaked out, boxing in Azuma's escape routes.

"They lost their cool already?"

Azuma glanced back at the incoming missiles.

He'd been taunting the jets, starting at Mach 20 for fun.

Then it got boring, so he slowed down—way down.

Now…

These six missiles were actually faster than him, boosting the pilots' confidence.

If he'd kept at Mach 20, nothing short of an ICBM could've caught him—regular missiles? No chance.

"Eh, I'm done playing," Azuma said.

He spun around and fired a blast of heat vision.

BOOM!!

All six missiles exploded midair!

Flames and black smoke swallowed a chunk of the sky.

The pilots couldn't see if they'd hit him, but they figured they had.

"Weird—did you guys see a red flash just now?" one pilot asked.

"Red flash? Nah, didn't see it."

"Me neither. You sure you didn't imagine it?"

The other two hadn't noticed any red light.

As the first pilot started doubting himself, a crimson beam tore through the explosion ahead, screaming toward them.

"That's it!" he shouted.

Next second—

BOOM!

The first jet took a direct hit from the heat vision, disintegrating in a fiery blast!

BOOM! BOOM!

Seconds later, the second and third jets followed—blown to bits!

In a flash, three jets worth over $300 million turned into sky-scattered wreckage.

Azuma hovered high up, watching the distant explosions, then spun around and vanished at breakneck speed.

…

On the beach…

Now in beachwear, Azuma lounged in a chair, sipping a drink and soaking up the sun.

That stunt a few minutes ago?

Already forgotten.

He sunbathed all day, sampling some local eats in between.

As the sun dipped, he left Miami, zipping to the other side of the planet. Finding a scenic beach, he spent half a day sea fishing.

But either his luck sucked, or he picked a bad spot.

Half a day—and nothing!

"No way I'm going home empty-handed!"

Azuma refused to accept defeat.

He dove into the sea and nabbed a fish with his bare hands.

A few hundred pounds—this long, this big!

Snapping a selfie with it, he let the poor thing go.

"No such thing as striking out—not for me!"

He grinned at the photo and sent it to the only contact in his phone: Clark Kent.

[Check out the fish I caught!]

Back in Smallville, it was midnight.

Clark stirred awake to the ping, groggy. Seeing Azuma's message—a pic with a massive fish—he squinted.

Sharp-eyed as ever, Clark spotted the flaw.

[You didn't fish that—you grabbed it from the water, didn't you?]

He fired back the text, picturing Azuma fuming—and smirked.

"Payback for waking me up."

Clark wasn't above a little petty revenge.

On the other side…

Azuma saw the reply and didn't flip out like Clark expected. Instead, he crossed 10,000+ kilometers to Kent Farm to "reason" with him in person.

Afterward, Clark admitted his mistake and apologized.

Azuma, magnanimous as ever, forgave him.

Watching Azuma leave, Clark just sighed, exasperated.

A day later, feeling he'd had his fun, Azuma returned to Metropolis.

"Sleep time!"

After washing up and slipping into pajamas, he flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes.

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